Phantom of the Opera  an alternative graveyard
by Amethyst Skulkyrie Cain
Summary: <html><head></head>An alternative graveyard scene. It's short, need reviews if you want this to be continued. Give me ideas in them too. I'll make them happen ;   Eventual Phantom/Erik/Christine. Not for Raoul lovers.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera. This is my first ficlet for them. The whole thing belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. If this particular plot has been done before, forgive me, no infringement is intended. Enjoy, and please review :)**

Swords clashed, and metal sparks flew, the two men in a dance filled with tension, their faces illuminated by the soft moonlight of the full moon. It looked like one particular man was winning, until he was on the ground, with the other's foot on his chest, sword poised by his face; ready to deliver the final blow.

The man on the ground wore a mask, and was called Erik. Or, to everyone else, the Phantom of the Opera. The victorious man was called Raoul, and he was fighting Erik to the death. All because of a woman. This woman ran forward. Her name was Christine Daae.

Her dress was black, and floor length, a scarf wrapped around her head. She had tears drying on her face, which was red from the harshness of the wind's biting.

The night was cold, and breath could be seen in a mist, swirling around everyone's faces. The mist mingled between themselves, forming one, then rising into the air in a cloud. "No, Raoul! No. Not like this. Don't let the Angel in Hell's death hang above you. Stop. Please." She stopped to catch her breath, and she stumbled forward; tripping over her train.

Raoul put his sword into his sheath, gleaming red with Erik's blood, and looked at Christine. "Are... you... mad? This man is the reason you were nearly killed." Erik's face was contorted with anger, and Christine looked at him, helplessness in her eyes.

Pain was evident in his, and it was so powerful that Christine walked over to him, shrugging clear of Raoul's restraining arm, and knelt before him. She was completely disregarding the restraining order Raoul had put on her Angel of Music, and ripped a strip of cloth from Erik's cloak.

As she started to wrap his wound – a slash on his shoulder – he hissed, and Christine flinched. "Sssh. It's fine. There. Done." The Phantom's eyes hunted hers down, and held her gaze. For a moment, each pair of eyes memorised the other's face, and that was where each found their release from reality. In each other. Raoul cleared his throat, getting uncomfortable. When she made no attempt to stop her eyes darting all over her secret love interest's face, Raoul roughly grabbed her, and crushed her lips to his. There was no emotion in the kiss, only possession, like Christine was a prize to be won. His lips were cold and unfeeling. Slimy. She pulled away. "No." She was shaking in rage, and Erik stood up steadily.

**Sorry this is so short. This is just a little bit of it, as I would like some opinions on this. Please review. I'm not sure if I should continue this, so reviews are REALLY important. Thank you ;) All reviews will be replied to, I promise.**


	2. The fight, part 2

**Disclaimer: I only posted the first chapter yesterday (28th April), and woke up the next day to find 7 reviews, which is the most reviews one story has ever gotten (when I've written them)! Thank you to all those who reviewed, and please, keep those ideas coming :) **

**Sorry the last one was so short! Hopefully, this long one makes up for it!**

**As for a real disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera, Andrew Lloyd Webber does.**

**There wasn't ever really a proper summary of this story, so here's a brief one: Christine halts the sword fight in the graveyard, by standing up for Erik, and then Raoul gets a bit possessive of her (not much, because that is OOC), and so they fight again. One person dies, the other two survive. Who are they, and why?**

**Oh, just a last note. The plot of this chapter was an idea posted by the white princess , and I just adapted it to the storyline.**

**Warning: character death.**

**Enjoy, and sorry for the long A/N!**

_Last time: "She was shaking in rage, and Erik stood up steadily."_

Erik was panting, and his breath was mingling with Christine's. Together, their breath was partying with the other, forming as one in the cold winter's night. Raoul stood a little off to the side, watching as his girlfriend and mortal enemy – though his hate would last longer than his death - got lost in each other's eyes.

Raoul grabbed Christine's arm again, though it was a little softer than last time. "Christine." Christine didn't look his way. Instead, she took a step toward Erik; and his face turned wary. Raoul and Erik shared a glance. The question each asked was reflected in the other's eyes. _What is she doing?_ Raoul didn't like this one bit. "Christine!" Christine whipped toward Raoul, fire in her eyes. "What?" Raoul took a step back, looking at Erik. _Help me._

"Christine?" The fire in her eyes settled down at his voice. She turned toward Erik again, taking another step forward, to Erik's side. Christine laid a hand on his face, stroking the porcelain mask and his angular facial features. " My Angel of Music."

Christine's voice was soft, getting carried by the wind to Raoul's ears. Raoul unsheathed his sword, pointing it at Erik again. "You murderer! Where's the Christine I know? What have you done to her? I demand to know! She's never act like this, not in a million years. Not the Christine I know!" Raoul started trembling, and lunged for Erik, who pushed Christine out of the way. Christine landed on the cold snow, trembling in fear and coldness. Erik hadn't pushed her roughly, but with enough force to get her out of the way.

"I? I wouldn't ever lay a hand on Christine. She is divine in beauty, and her voice is angelic. I haven't murdered her. I wouldn't dare. YOU, _sir_-" His voice turned cold on that word, mocking Raoul. "- are the one treating her like a possession, a prize to be won. So, let me battle you. A fight to the death. But let me warn you... I'm a VERY sore loser." And with that said, Erik unsheathed his sword, and lunged for Raoul, bumping into him. Unfortunately, Raoul then fell sideways, stabbing Christine in the shoulder.

Impaling her.

Erik and Raoul froze.

Christine's ear splitting scream racked their very souls, sending shivers up their spines. Erik recovered first, picking up his sword, and stabbing Raoul repeatedly with it. Raoul did not fight back, did not flinch, or cry out. He was too frozen in shock at what he had done. When Raoul no longer let out clouds of carbon dioxide and oxygen, Erik stepped back, panting rapidly.

He turned toward Christine, picking up her frail body, and ran back toward the Opera House, ignoring the harshness of the wind, but stopping every now and then to check her pulse.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thu-ump. Thu-ump. _Her pulse started to fade away, making Erik run faster than he had ever before.

All Erik could do was run, and sing in his mind to Christine. _I am the mask you wear, it's me they hear... my spirit and your voice, in one combined... the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind._

When he arrived at his lair, Christine's heartbeat was barely there, causing Erik's to shoot up sky high. A mantra started going in his head. _Please survive, please survive, please survive, please survive, please survive... _over and over and over again. Erik hadn't removed the sword, but he did now. Christine's body jerked, and she emitted a soft groan.

That was all the encouragement Erik needed. Throwing the sword to the ground, he put direct pressure onto the hole in Christine's shoulder, and bandaged it up. The hole wasn't big, about 6mm all the way around, and it was accidental, but it was making his own personal Angel be on Death's door. Which he wouldn't allow. Anger boiled within his veins, and he tried to not let anger get the best of him. Not in this situation. Not now. _Focus._ He chided himself. Once her wound was properly bandaged, and her pulse became steady again, he studied his surroundings. His lair was as immaculately tidy as always, and all candles were lit. The river smelt like sewer, but Erik had grown used to that, and no longer smelt it. Picking up Christine, I made my way to the Shell shaped bed, laying her gently on it. Checking her pulse once more, I was satisfied to see that her heartbeat was nice and steady. If she was in pain, she didn't show it.

Settling down on a chair by the bed, I sang to her as she slept, hoping that she'd wake up soon. Unfortunately, I couldn't focus on the song, and so many different lyrics from different songs moulded into one, creating a weird, mismatched song.

_The Phantom of the Opera is here, inside my mind._

_Past the point of no return. No going back now. The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn..._

_I fought so hard to free you..._

_Angel of music... you deceived me. I gave you my mind blindly._

_The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold, and turn to tears of hate!_

But, soon I realised the mismatched song lyrics were getting dark and depressing, so I mentally shook myself and began again.

_Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside._

_Angel of Music, Guide and Guardian, come to me, sweet Angel._

_What endless longings, yearning in my winter._

_Have you forgotten your Angel?_

No. She'd never forget me. At least, I hope not. Christine, my own Angel started to stir. "Christine."

_As for our young star, Ms Christine Daae._

_No doubt she'll do her best, it's true her voice is good,_

_she knows, though, should she wish to excel, _

_she has much still to learn._

_If pride will let her return to me, her teacher._

_Her teacher._

"Erik? Where am I?" She tried to sit up, and I gently pressed her down again. "What happened?"

"Well, you're in my Lair, and Raoul accidentally stabbed you through the shoulder, so I brought you here and saved your life. Another few minutes, and you'd have died."

"Oh." She chewed her lip, and stared at the ceiling. "Thank you." I nodded, and took her hand. She looked at me. "Where's Raoul?" I gulped. I realised I was faced with two options:

Tell the truth and risk losing her forever.

Cover it with a lie and keep her captured here.

Neither I liked, so I did a compromise. "After he stabbed you, accidentally, I stabbed him, and I think he died. I'm sorry." Christine blinked twice.

Silence.

She didn't do anything but blink. The silence – once so relaxing and familiar – now seemed scary and a bringer of death. Oh no. I think I'm in trouble. Then, just as I started to get a few grey hairs in worry for her, she screamed.

This scream wasn't normal.

This scream was filled with pain.

Nothing sounded more heartbreaking.

This scream was filled with pain over the loss of a childhood sweetheart (words I'd heard her say back when she didn't know my name or face.), the loss of a friend, a companion. Her significant other had been ripped from her by her Angel of Music. Her love.

Tears cascaded down her face, and she sat there for 5 hours, just mourning out in the open. I reached for her numerous times, but all she ever did was sit still, silently showing her feelings.

I'd never felt more guilty than now.

I truly am a monster who doesn't deserve to live.

**Please review, and I hope this made up for the short first chapter. Keep the ideas coming in, because I have got writer's block. Thank you :)**


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